The Genesis
by Alex the Apple
Summary: She was just like him, two sides to the same coin. But she was the hunted and he was the hunter. Or was it the other way around? "I'm not insane, Captain Hitsugaya. I'm intelligent. And so are you. Maybe we're not so diferent after all."
1. Prologue

**The prologue is going to confuse you, so I'm just gonna go ahead and post the first chapter. This story is going to be long and a lot of it will only make sense at the end, probably in the epilogue. **

**The rating's for language and implied situations. **

**Hitsugaya's character is mostly intact, but I find him hard to pin down so if I stray in to OOCness, do forgive me. I've also completely destroyed Rukia's character, though there are bits and pieces of it in there somewhere. **

**This idea was originally something I planned for an AU fanfiction for one of my own stories (that I have not written yet—yeah, already thinking of fanfiction before I can even write the canon) but it was burning a hole in my creativity and had to come out. This was the best solution I could find. If you're confused, you can ask me questions but I'm not giving away the plot.**

**Note that even though romance was not a selected genre, I'm a hopeless romantic at heart, and so you can expect that. Not at the beginning but soon enough. Other than the main pairing (Hitsugaya/Rukia), I'm open as to who should end up with who. Sideline romance between other pairings will be a part of this charade but it doesn't really matter who it's between; I can work it into the plot. So if you've got a suggestion, I'm all ears, as long as it doesn't mess with the main pairing. **

**I'm a sucker for Hitsuruki.**

**Warning: AU and OCCness.**

**Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own (I need a more creative disclaimer).**

* * *

**The Genesis  
Prologue: **

"She's the one?"

"She's the one."

"How do you know?"

"She's proven it too many times for us not to know. No one else has ever come close."

"So now you've found her, what are you going to do with her?"

"What we did to the others."

"I thought you liked this kid."

"Whatever gave you that impression?"

"The fantasy that there might be some humanity in you still."

"There was never any to begin with."

"True. Alright, take her."


	2. The Beginning of The Game

**Chapter One: The Beginning of the Game**

The world is an illusion.

It hadn't always been, but it was now.

From the bastards who governed everything to the ordinary citizen could see that. And did they care? If they did, they didn't show it. Most likely, they didn't care at all. Earth as a planet still existed. It still rotated on its tilted axis and made its journey around the sun, close enough not to freeze but far enough not to burn. Life still thrived, more rigid and controlled but it thrived, nonetheless. Things still happened, people laughed, children played. The fundamentals of life didn't change that much: they adapted. Earth as a world had been destroyed. Totally and utterly destroyed. Earth as a community, as a home, was no more.

Earth was now a Territory.

A Territory governed collectively and totally by the Court, a single body of dictators, much like a monarchy under the pretence of a democratic. The futuristic world can't be considered futuristic, seeing as it's actually the present. And though the appearance is not so greatly exaggerated to that of flying cars and humanoid, functioning robots, it comes very close.

It was supposed to be a better world.

It wasn't.

In the end, it had evolved as it needed to in order to survive and things would have been fine, perfect, even, if it weren't for the tyrants that ruled them all. Their dictators. What were supposed to be selfless and intelligent rulers turned out to be malicious and cunning despots. The population at large didn't know the details to their exploits but there were enough signs to cause a ripple of uncertainty, of suspicion that was usually ignored because really, it wasn't so bad, was it? The way they lived? Obviously, something was going on upstairs but that didn't affect them, and by the time it did, they'd probably be dead anyway.

And so, life went on.

* * *

Hitsugaya Toushiro had been treated like utter shit when he had been a kid, so what they were doing to him now didn't faze him at all. He followed him blindly through the corridors, not asking a question, not because he didn't want to know—he wanted to know badly, but because he really didn't care.

They had this tactic, this really fucking annoying tactic of giving out orders without explanation, of manipulating them as though they were god. But, he supposed, this was the nature of things. He was a soldier, and it was his job to follow orders, no matter how much he hated the game.

He held an undying anger towards them, not intense and not weak but always there, and not likely to go away either. This he kept to himself.

He had joined the Academy when he was five and the circumstances under which that had happened always left a bitter taste in his mouth. For the same reasons they had chosen him in the first place, he had flown through their entire system with ease.

In his first year, he had alienated all the other students in his year. He passed an entire year's worth of work in strategic training in his first month, had earned the respect of all his teachers and the resentments of students both his age and older, and had completed Level Two in The Games.

The shortest allowed time for graduation had been at least eight years at the Academy and two in Orientation. Hitsugaya had spent four and a half years in the Academy and had skipped Orientation altogether. He had beaten all six Levels of The Game, including the unbeatable last Level, the Level that had only been beaten once before and had been promoted to Tactical Command School, where he spent two years training students years older than him. After every last one of the forty-five pupils under his tutelage had passed with full cards of distinction, the decision had been made for him to become the youngest Captain in the history of the New World.

And though he didn't know it, he had hated every moment of it.

"You're awfully quiet," Ukitake commented with force cheerfulness.

To add truth to that statement, Hitsugaya said nothing at all. Ukitake he actually liked. Unlike most of the Divisions' captains and officers, Ukitake had sense. He may have followed orders, but like Hitsugaya, he silently questioned them. One might have thought it cowardly that they did nothing when they so clearly knew that things were amiss. But it wasn't so. The truth of the matter was that it wouldn't make a difference. They had no proof, no idea what was really going on. And even if they spoke, they might be heard but chances are they wouldn't. It just didn't make sense.

Ukitake led him into a wide room dotted here and there with sofas and chairs. There was one door at the far end of the room, closed and sealed tight. Hitsugaya had been in the Atrium three times before. First, when he was taken from his family and told he'd be going to the Academy. Second, when he had graduated from said Academy and third, when he was made Captain.

Being there again was...bittersweet, more bitter than sweet.

Ukitake approached the door, placed his hand on the doorknob and looked over his shoulder at his young companion.

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

Ukitake opened the door and Hitsugaya followed him.

It wasn't what he'd been expecting.

Usually, for meetings like these, the entire thirteen Captains of the Gotei Thirteen had to be gathered. The room was curved and a long high table curved with it along the far wall on a raised platform. The Commander had the centre seat, and all other Captains were to be seated on either side of him. As he had before, Hitsugaya stepped to the centre of the room while Ukitake remained at the door. Only the Commander was there, gazing down at him with apathetic, barely visible eyes. Hitsugaya had to tilt his head up to look at him, and it was a position he hated immensely.

"Captain Hitsugaya," the old man began, his voice low and gravely but clearly heard.

"Commander," he replied in a clipped tone.

The Commander made no reaction to his tone. He instead leaned forward a bit, looking at him intently over the withered hands clasped on the head of the thick cane he carried.

"Captain Hitsugaya," he said again. "A delicate matter has presented itself to the Court."

Hitsugaya stiffened. He had no problem working for the Gotei Thirteen: that was his job. Working for the Court, however, was something different. Technically, the Gotei Thirteen were an independent body, but because the Court ruled everything, it gave them privy to command the services of the Divisions.

"And what does that have to do with me, Commander?" he asked plainly.

Commander Yamamoto ignored this and went on, "Details have been unforthcoming. Over the past three weeks, our best analysts have tried to gather more information but other than what they want us to do, the Court hasn't told us how we're to do it or why it's being done."

Me, Commander, Hitsugaya thought with resignation. Not us.

"That still doesn't explain why I'm here," he said out loud.

"What we've been told," the Commander continued as though he hadn't heard him, "Is that we're looking for a fugitive who escaped a few years ago, though why they're looking for them now hasn't been revealed."

From the way he said it, Hitsugaya knew the old man knew more about it than he was suggesting. From behind him, he sensed Ukitake shift and knew that the other Captain's presence was deliberate. Ukitake had something to do with it.

"A fugitive," Hitsugaya said calmly. "What's their crime?"

"Treason," Yamamoto said with such severe finality that a moment of silence passed while the echo of the word died out.

Hitsugaya took a moment to think. In a world where normal crime was almost nonexistent, any form of it was serious. But in a world controlled as it was now, treason was like a taboo. Unheard of. Who would dare go against the dictators, against the Court? Though he knew he shouldn't, Hitsugaya felt a small notion of respect for this person, this person he was supposed to hunt down. Not exactly the best way to start a mission.

"All we know is that the fugitive is somewhere in Tokyo. That's it. You're to deploy a small team of officers to a Command Centre there and hunt them down. You are to inflict no harm as far as possible and you're ordered to bring the prisoner back here alive. Elimination is not a choice, no matter how desperate the situation is. Your orders are to capture, not kill. If the choice comes down to letting them escape, then do so. Regroup and try again."

Hitsugaya didn't know if to raise his eyebrows or frown, and seeing as he couldn't do the both of them at the same time, he settled for expressionless.

"And how exactly are we supposed to find them if we know nothing about them? Not even what they look like?"

Yamamoto settled back in his seat and for a moment, Hitsugaya thought the old man's lips twitched.

"You're to set up a base, Captain Hitsugaya. Get a feel of the area and familiarize yourselves with the occupants and their politics. Make yourselves known. Then sit back and she'll find _you_."

_She?_

"Sir," Hitsugaya paused. He had a lot of things on his mind but no clue about how to phrase them.

"I understand that this is quite unorthodox, Captain Hitsugaya," the commander said, as though reading his mind. "And normally the Gotei Thirteen would never partake in such a bizarre exercise. However it is not an order we can just ignore."

Hitsugaya said nothing.

"Your team has been selected for you," Yamamoto continued. "Though not by the Gotei Thirteen."

"By the Court?" Hitsugaya questioned, feeling himself get angry. Bloody, interfering bastards. Every last one of them.

The Commander nodded. "Under what criteria they were chosen, I don't know, although it's not much of a guess as to why _you_ were chosen."

"Generally, no," Hitsugaya agreed without arrogance. "For this mission, however, it remains a mystery. So no one from my Division, then?"

"Other than your lieutenant, no. I assume I don't have to tell you that you'll be working under a mission alias, and that no one outside your team and myself are to know about this."

Hitsugaya glanced over his shoulder at Ukitake, who raised an eyebrow at him.

"Captain Ukitake will be accompanying you," the Commander said. "As senior officer in charge."

"Then what am I?"

"Commanding officer."

Hitsugaya fell silent and Yamamoto took the chance to conclude. The boy before him was resentful, he knew, something that went back farther than he wanted to admit. However, that made him the perfect choice, though the Court had no idea the potential it had to cripple this entire mission. If things went right, as he was hoping they would, then the Court would no longer be a concern to anyone.

"You'll be given the rest of the day to brief your team and prepare. Ukitake will inform you of who they are and they'll be waiting for you at your office when you return. You leave for Tokyo on the first shuttle out tomorrow morning."

Hitsugaya gave him a searching look, teal eyes narrowed at the old man, probing, trying to figure out exactly what the fuck this was all about. But the old man was giving nothing more away and so he sighed deeply and resigned himself.

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Rukia liked working in the bookshop. It was one of only few in the city that still had actual bound books, with pages and spines and that spell of ink and paper. It had the popular digital franchise too, of course. It would have never survived without it and though most of their customers came for that, there was the occasional person who came for the books. Rukia always paid attention to these customers. They were always the interesting ones, the ones like her. People who longed for the past, who couldn't yet recognize that technology had overtaken their world. The ones who couldn't let go of the ancient bound books, who cared about reading and loved it enough to want to hold an actual book in their hands, to turn page after page and crease corners when they couldn't find a bookmark. Who didn't care that the computer system had been developed to conserve space, nor that it was more practical.

Rukia was in charge of this section of the bookstore and as it wasn't as popular, she had time to herself to sit and read the books she admired so much. And when she was interrupted with an actual customer, it was always worth it.

She was an excellent worker, and she knew this. Others did, too, and she always had repeat customers. But no matter how many times they came in and made conversation, in which she was always attentive and insightful, there was no connection. She revealed nothing of herself, hardly ever asked personal questions and never probed further even when someone had purposeful left it open to do so. Though she had worked there for a year and a half, nobody knew anything about her. She kept to herself, declined all offers of lunch and dates with politeness and grace and hardly ever started a conversation herself. She came to work every day on time, never late, from where, nobody knew. She worked long and hard and then left, never early and never late, to where, nobody knew.

They knew her only by the name Rukia, and sometimes, it was hard to remember even that. She was smart and beautiful and by all laws of nature, she was _memorable_. Yet hardly anybody ever remembered her, and they had no clue why.

As far as they knew, she had no friends. No one seemed to know her, no one visited her at work and though she played with her expensive cell phone all the time, she never received nor made any calls.

She was young but no one knew how old she was. She was brilliant enough to be at least sixty, knowledgeable in what seemed like everything but looked like a teenager, and so they could not decide how old she was, and didn't bother to even approach the question of if she was an adult.

Rukia never seemed to notice all of this though. She went about her day with the air of someone who knew she shared the earth with others but didn't particularly care. Her world was a bubble. She could see things and things could see her. But for all the weaponry in the world, nothing could pierce that veil between her and them.

Rukia closed the book in her hands and settled in back neatly on the shelf. It was quite nice to work in a bookstore. The money wasn't the best but she wasn't in it for that. She stood up from her seat and stretched just as the small bell above the door chimed. Rukia looked up.

The young man was subjected to the sweeping red laser that bathed him from head to foot, sourced from a small security device right above the door. When it was done, the light disappeared and the device beeped twice happily. No danger here.

The boy was only a few years older than she was, tall and lanky but muscled enough to crush her fragile limbs without thinking about it. His somewhat surly expression was topped with outrageous spiky orange hair and his brown eyes had the potential to be kind, but were gazing out at the room with an impatient stare.

"Good day," Rukia said politely, giving him a pretty but meaningless smile as she clasped her hands behind her back and stepped out from behind the bookshelf.

He looked at her and raised an indifferent eyebrow. "You work here?" he asked.

Rukia inclined her head to the side in confirmation. "How can I help you?"

The boy stepped further into the room and looked around, this time with purpose. "I'm looking for a book," he said.

Who'd have thought? "An e-book?"

He shook his head and she smiled brightly at him, genuinely this time. "By what name and author?" she asked, moving through the shelves, her mind running through the sequence of how the books were sorted. As soon as he said a name, she would be able to find it.

"The Holy Bible," he said. "By God."

She smiled at his joke. They had no religious books here. They had no religious books anywhere.

"And what would you do with it if you had it?" she asked.

"The better question is what would _they_ do to_me_ if I had it," he retorted.

Rukia gave him a bland smile and he said, more conciliatorily, "I'm just looking for a gift for my sister. She's into soccer."

"We don't have many new books in print. Those are usually published electronically. We've got mostly older versions."

"That's fine."

Rukia wove through the shelves until she came upon the sports section. There were old magazines that had lost their gloss and heavy books with all manner of statistics and ratings, and then there were biographies and journals, and collections of newspaper articles. The boy followed her closely but not too closely.

Discretely, Rukia picked up Techniques for a Better Soccer Player by some retired veteran of the sport and deliberately led him to the end of the shelf, where it met the wall and where they were secluded from the view of the security cameras cleverly hidden in the vertices of the room. She turned and faced him, holding out the book to him.

He leaned forward to take it, closer than necessary so that his orange hair brushed hers, and as his hands closed around the book, he whispered, "They're coming for you."

No other words could have chilled Rukia more but she didn't let it show. Instead, she raised an eyebrow and commented quietly, "Took them long enough."

He gave her a disapproving look. "Don't take this lightly," he hissed.

Rukia gave him a look. "Why do you care?" she asked quietly.

"I honestly don't know."

She pulled out the register from her pocket, a small black device with a narrow ridge. Seeing it, the boy withdrew his credit card from his pocket and swiped it once. A small light at the side blinked green and Rukia let go of the book.

"All yours now," she said.

His face was dark but he turned on his heel, marching out from their corner and swinging the door open, moving so fast that the red laser followed him out into the street, checking to make sure that all he took with him was his—the register would have added the book to the records as being purchased.

"Thank you, Ichigo," she whispered but she knew he didn't hear her and she was relieved.

* * *

Rukia trudged up the stairs to her apartment. She could hear the quarrelsome grandmother who lived in the rooms beneath hers, berating her grandson for something or the other, and a tired smile wound its way onto her face. She had grown used to them over the past few years, even if they never saw her and she never saw them, all by her design of course.

Not for the first time since Ichigo had come to the store did she think about leaving. She hadn't thought about leaving this place since she had decided to make it permanent. Well, permanent in her terms, anyway—which usually meant not an overnight stay. She wondered vaguely why she hadn't taken off yet. Things were always in place that she could leave from anywhere, at any time, for situations just like this. She hadn't left though, and deep down, she knew she wasn't going to.

She knew the habits of all eight occupants that she shared the apartment building with, though she rarely ever saw them, and they certainly never saw her. As far as they knew, the top floor was vacant. She had planned it this way. The time she left for work in the morning coincided with the time the others were still getting ready or had already left. When she left the building, there would never be one of them out on the streets to see her, same thing with when she came back home.

She had done background checks on all of them and had discovered things about them they probably didn't know themselves. She had no intention of abusing the information, however, and it was just knowledge to her, not a tool. She had always been kind to them, even if they didn't know it. When Cabbage, the pet dog from one of the downstairs tenants had run away, Rukia had spent most of that Saturday looking for him and had deposited him discretely into the old woman's window. She hadn't done it because she had been bored or had nothing to do—as she nearly always was—but because she knew the old woman had no one and Cabbage was her only companion.

The building's superintendant had had trouble repairing a malfunctioning window monitor in a couple's apartment one day and while he had gone downstairs for more tools, she had snuck in and done it herself. When he had come back, he hadn't known what had happened but just assumed that the monitor had never been malfunctioning at all.

Rukia had also updated the security system with one of her own, a system that wouldn't be developed by the manufacturers for another two decades, at least. It was focused around her own apartment, but considering in the event that something happened, most likely because of her, the other tenants would be collateral, and so she had extended the system to theirs. None of them were technically advanced enough to detect that something had changed, that the improvement was something they had never seen before because they had hardly seen anything before at all.

She never received any mail and either cooked for herself or ate out miles away from the building. She had no car, no bicycle or any other means of transport and avoided public vehicles for the simple reason that they kept a record of all their passengers. She paid for everything she bought in cash and never with the credit cards that everyone else used. It was unusual but not enough to raise suspicion, especially not if she never visited the same place twice. Someone not using a card at a grocery once was a marked event, but not nearly as marked as someone who repeated the gesture in the same place twice. She never went anywhere that required she use a last name. Her job had been a verbal understanding, no contract signed, no records made whatsoever. At first, she had deliberately made it a part time job, as permanent worker would have needed papers. After a while, she worked more hours until she worked a full day and though she had never offered any explanation, it had happened so gradually that it barely registered with her employer and other employers. She paid her rent by an unmarked envelope she discretely placed in the landlord's mailbox on the first of every month. Her first payment had been an envelope with her name and the room number written across the front and a small note saying she would be renting the room from then on. She had watched that day as the landlord, an overweight balding man who didn't look too closely into his tenants, collected his mail from a secluded perch in a tree across the street. She stayed there for hours until he had left for the evening walk she knew his doctor had recommended, and had then snuck into his rooms. As she had expected, the money was gone but the envelope and note lay discarded on the table. She had burnt them, knowing he would never notice it missing. From then on, he always knew that the envelope, and subsequently the money within, was from her, though he had never seen or spoken to her. If he ever found the nature of their agreement odd, he had never tried to tell her.

She was the Phantom of the Opera, not as musically inclined but just as mysterious. If she had any problem that could not be fixed by herself, she would send unsigned notes to her landlord detailing what the problem was and instructions on when and how to fix it. And after the first one had instructed him to burn it after he had read it, she knew he would burn them all without her order. There was hardly ever anything she could not accomplish herself and the notes were few and far in between.

Her more regular notes, however, were the ones she sent to the other tenants. They were notes of kindness, telling them things she thought they should know._The hinges on your front door are weak: you should have the super replace them. The rear left tire on your car is flat: repair it before you drive. Do be careful on the third landing: the railings have just been replaced and have yet to be secured._ At first, they had been suspicious to trust, but after the first few proved true, they accepted it without question. Rukia was never wrong, and most of her neighbours had their suspicions on another. She was pretty sure the grandson from the apartment beneath hers could have much of his scolding contributed to her, but in her opinion he stressed out his grandmother more than the lady deserved and really ought to learn how to behave by now.

All in all, it wasn't a bad place to live and she didn't like the thought that she might have to leave.

Wearily, she opened her door and slipped in. Her fingerprints on the door handle were enough to disable the security system and as soon as the door was firmly closed, it was enabled again. Rukia shrugged off her jacket in the dark.

"Lights, Doc," she murmured and the lights flickered on.

"Welcome home, Rukia."

She hung her jacket on the single peg on the wall next to her door and moved into the room. The apartment was only two rooms, the living area and the bathroom. The large room was sectioned off. To her left was her small kitchen with the small round table and chairs. To her right was a small recreational area of sorts. There was a sofa before a small television where she could watch the news or play a video simulation. There was a state-of-the-art stereo that she adored. She wasn't much for television and the radio was the only company she had, filling the long empty hours with music. To the left further down was her sleeping area. It was just a large mattress, neatly made, screened from rest of the room by a bookshelf that held her most prized books. Across from that was her work area. The wall directly opposite the front door was lined with windows, so the table with her machines and devices were along the right wall, her desk with her laptop facing the windows. There was a large notice board above her machines, bare now but with little holes from where the pins used to be. If she intended to stay and fight this out, that board would soon be in use again.

Rukia sat down at her desk.

"My laptop, Doc," she said and the computer blinked to life.

During the day, the windows offered splendid light to do work. During the night she had to rely on her little desk lamp, which was powered by solar energy it had stored from during the day, but it offered a beautiful view of the darkened city, the few lights that had permission to stay on late into the night, the bejewelled black velvet of the sky.

"I need the recent movements of the Gotei Thirteen," she said.

The computer hesitated. "Do you want me to hack into the Gotei Thirteen's database?" Doc asked.

"No. That would take risks I can't make at the moment. Hack into the Command Centres in Japan and focus on the local ones in Tokyo."

She knew they knew she was in Tokyo. It had taken a lot of reasoning on her part before she had decided that letting that secret out would benefit her, and it had. As long as she knew they were looking for her there, she could avoid the areas that would lead them to find her. It also meant that if she left, she could go anywhere and they probably wouldn't find out. Letting them know she was in Tokyo had denied her that security now, but Rukia knew they would have eventually found her, and when they did, she wanted her escape to be as secure as possible. While looking for her in Japan, the rest of the world was a permanent safe zone she could retreat to at any time, and by the time they found out she was gone, it would be too late to pinpoint her position. They couldn't very well search the entire world, and if by chance they came close, then she just had to start the sequence over again.

"What am I looking for?"

"Anything strange."

"There are no recent strange orders, Rukia. Only a transfer of six officers to a local Command Centre."

Rukia folded her arms across her chest. "And why is that strange? Officers are transferred all the time."

"This is a scouting exercise that includes two captains and two lieutenants, including both a third and fifth seat."

Rukia started and sat up, paying attention. That was suspicions. _Scouting?_ Considering that the transfer included two captains, two lieutenants and a third and fifth seat, a simple scouting exercise was obviously a scam. Rukia checked the names and swallowed.

**Senior officer: Ukitake Juushiro (Thirteenth Division Captain)  
Commanding officer: Hitsugaya Toushiro (Tenth Division Captain)  
Matsumoto Rangiku (Tenth Division Lieutenant)  
Abarai Renji (Sixth Division Lieutenant)  
Madarame Ikkaku (Eleventh Division Third Seat)  
Ayasegawa Yumichka (Eleventh Division Fifth Seat)**

Rukia leaned back in her chair and watched the screen of her computer with a blank expression. This wasn't the first time they had tried to find her but this was the first time they meant business. The first times had been a matter of her being a fugitive and them needing to capture her. The obvious effort they had made told her that now they _needed_ to find her. They needed her for something.

Rukia allowed a small, almost bitter smile to twist her lips.

Ukitake _and_ Renji. What a way to rub salt in her never-healing wounds. If they thought sending familiar faces would evoke pity and surrender in her, they were wrong. It only made her want to fight harder.

Ukitake she didn't have to worry much about. He was senior officer, a supervisor. He would not be there in the action. Renji, however, was a different story but Rukia was sure that if it came to it, she would be able to handle it with little injury.

The others she didn't know but wasn't particularly concerned about. She had defeated greater men unscathed. After all, she had committed treason and had gotten away with it. It would take more than the entire Gotei Thirteen to defeat her and they knew it.

Rukia frowned. So why then would they send such a small, inexperienced team? If Rukia had never heard of them, then they probably weren't much. Renji and Ukitake had been a clever move, but not one she couldn't recover splendidly from.

"Doc, pull up Captain Hitsugaya's performance records."

"Captain Hitsugaya Toushiro graduated from the Academy with all honours after four years and seven months of training. He taught at Command School but was then promoted to Captain soon after. He is the youngest ever to attain the position and mastered all Levels of the Game before his graduation, with the best scores in accessible data."

Rukia couldn't help but smile. Accessible. The inaccessible didn't hold the secrets she knew everyone believed they did. They just held her scores, her records from the Academy and her performance stats.

Not youngest, Captain Hitsugaya. I did everything you did in less time and I'm younger than you.

This didn't particularly bother her, but at least now she understood his importance in the team, though it was obvious he wouldn't.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Doc's gentle prodding.

"I have the purchase of an airplane ticket to London on hold," the computer said, its volume low.

"I'm not leaving, Doc," Rukia said calmly. "I'm going to stay and fight this out. They've given me everything that, if I'm careful and clever, I can use this against them. And I'm nothing if not careful and clever."

This was going to be dangerous and risky and probably fatal but then it was always these things. What it had never been before, however, was fun. And Rukia was going to enjoy it as long as she could.

* * *

**There we have it. This is a futuristic world, if you didn't figure it out. Doc is a computer program designed by our beloved Rukia and Ichigo is something of an ass, but not for long. **

**Review if you are so inclined. It makes me smile. And it might improve the chances of Hitsuruki sex. Maybe.**


	3. Welcome to Tokyo

**Acknowledgements:**

**That Sick Bastard—I'm certainly glad (and honoured) that you think so though I must disagree. Chocolate chip is my favourite.**

**Sphinx—I'm happy you think it's interesting.**

**Dethangelx—I know, I love my A/N at the end, too. I actually contemplated putting them in reverse rolls, with Hitsugaya as the fugitive. But then I thought, how typical would that be? I really wanted Rukia to prove something to him and give him a run for his money. I wanted to pull her out of her comfort zone, even though I knew it would denature her characterization, to make her become something that allowed her to stand on the same level as Hitsugaya from the very beginning. In this story, they're of human ages.**

**Sabine—I actually thought long and hard about whether to categorise this as dystopian and in a way it is, but I more think of it as being only a few years into the future of our present. **

**AndrijanaChappyA—They're my favorite pairing, too!**

**Wintersia—Thanks! And you'll find out about Ichigo in this chapter.**

**Midori no yume—I'm glad it tempted you. I don't mind if you fangirl (I find myself engaging in that sort of activity all the time). As for the sideline romance, I just don't want the secondary characters to seem neglected. Things happen, you know, hormones rage and tequila gets involved (this is not a spoiler, this is a joke) and I want to make this as complete and solid as possible. But don't worry, **_**that's**_**not going to be very descriptive, considering that this entire story will be written from either Rukia's or Hitsugaya's point of view.**

**Guest—Well, I'm flattered that it made such an impression, especially as it's your first. I like your ideas for the sideline romances and I respect your OTP. I have an intense appreciation for Ichiruki too; I think their relationship is dynamic and seductive in a way, yeah? I actually don't really like Ichigo being paired off with anyone else also so I can't tell you much, but what sort of person would I be if I didn't tell you to keep your hopes up?**

**Disclaimer—I do not own.**

* * *

**Chapter Two:  
Welcome to Tokyo**

"Okay, so the chip's in. Now what?"

"Do you think it's too early to put her into the simulation?"

"If you want her to die a gruesome, painful death, then no, why not?"

"How soon will she be ready, then?"

"She needs a few weeks to recuperate and for the chip to infiltrate her system. Even then, she'll be exhausted. Dying can do that to a person."

"Have her ready and waiting at the simulation room as soon as she wakes up."

"But—"

"That's an order."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Hitsugaya leaned against the railing, the rough waves crashing against the hull of the ship, sending spray up his way. He didn't care, though, and barely noticed that his hair was being whipped around his head, or that his uniform was slowly becoming soaked from the slight drizzle.

He was looking out at the rough sea, jet black at night, reflecting spires of moonlight as they swept across the water. Above him glittered millions of stars and if he wanted, he could have identified most of them. Long, sturdy fingers drummed absentmindedly on the wet railing, tapping out a rhythm even he didn't know, though the sound was lost in the tumult of the sea.

In the cabin behind him, where the light from within spilled out onto the deck, he could hear the cheerful camaraderie of the rest of his team, who seemed to know each other relatively well, though their work-relationship left much to be desired. Other than his lieutenant and himself and those two officers from the eleventh, they had no prior professional relationship whatsoever.

He still wasn't sure why each of them had been chosen, though the commander had insinuated that there was a special reason for each choice. He couldn't figure out what it was about them, though, and it troubled him. Clearly, there was an ulterior motive to each of them, whether they knew it or not, and he didn't like working under pretences, especially one he wasn't privy to.

Though he had repeated everything the commander had told him, none of the others seemed to share his reservations about the nature and oddity of their assignment. Or if they did, they didn't show it.

His own lieutenant, he knew, was smart enough to know that something was amiss. She would not discuss it with him, however, as it would be breaking protocol to do so. He would not put them in that position, no matter his curiosity and frustration. And he was always mindful of Matsumoto's connections in the Court.

Ikkaku was too mission-intensive and Yumichika too self-absorbed to care. Hitsugaya did not expect them to present brilliant theories, though he knew he could rely on them for combat and firepower.

Abarai…was suspicious. For a usually abrasive person, he had been oddly quiet during the briefing. He hadn't asked nearly as many questions as the others had, and while not seeming uncomfortable, he had certainly been wary. Hitsugaya could not fathom why.

It was more than obvious to him that Ukitake knew more than he was letting on. Hitsugaya knew that if he'd wanted to share the information, he would have done so by now. He was also certain the older captain would not let him walk blindly into something that was sure to prove catastrophic and for the moment, Hitsugaya would trust him.

They had a sea voyage of a few more hours before they reached the mainland. Despite the weather, it was refreshing to leave the island. He hadn't been to the mainland in years, not since his initiation and heavens knew how much he had hated that.

Through the crescendo of ocean noise, Hitsugaya suddenly heard footsteps across the deck and turned, his eyes narrowing. The tall, dark shape outlined by the hazy mist gave a short wave of acknowledgment. Hitsugaya recognized him, of course.

The vessel's captain was a tall, broad shouldered man with startling blue eyes, a flat, robin's egg's blue and a rough demeanour. He was curt and almost violent in nature and he made Hitsugaya uneasy for some reason. His unusual blue hair was flattened onto his head by the rain and the grin he gave Hitsugaya seemed more like a grimace.

"Captain Hitsugaya."

"Grimmjow," Hitsugaya returned coolly."

"Enjoying the scenery, I see," Grimmjow commented lazily, leaning against the railing.

Hitsugaya made no reply and the other man directed his gaze to him, lifting an eyebrow. "Got a lot on your mind, do you?" he said. "Can't blame you."

"That's none of your concern," Hitsugaya coldly replied.

"Nah, 'course not," Grimmjow agreed. "What do I need to know of your big bad secrets? I'm just a civilian, right?"

Hitsugaya said nothing.

"And what exactly brings a Captain of the Gotei Thirteen to the mainland?" Grimmjow asked, seemingly uninterested. "Isn't footwork usually left for the lower officers? I thought they usually used you guys when there's war?"

"Classified," Hitsugaya said shortly, though the man's probing unnerved him.

Grimmjow snorted. "Of course," he said derisively. "Isn't it always?"

He pushed himself off the railing and turned to leave, giving Hitsugaya a somewhat sadistic smile, and before he completely disappeared into the surrounding darkness, Hitsugaya thought he heard him say something, something that made no sense to him whatsoever and therefore had him questioning if he'd even heard anything at all.

"_Check."_

* * *

Rukia had stayed up all night into morning researching all six officers with Doc. Though the computer did not require such things as rest and food, he reminded Rukia of her need every few hours or so. Not that she listened to him.

Somewhere around six in the morning, she finally looked up from her laptop screen, a little surprised to see that the sun was already up and shining, filling her apartment with its warm glow. She was sitting on her bed, the computer on her lap, the lowered strains of Spem In Alium by Thomas Tallis seeping into the room from the stereo. It was an oddly intense piece and it helped her concentrate like nothing else.

Fortunately, it was Saturday and she did not have to go to work. But there was something else she needed to do.

She rolled off the bed and made for the shower. As the cold water needled her skin, she wondered if she was making a mistake. No, she decided. If I don't fight this out now, they'll just come after me again. I don't know how long I'll be able to play this game. It's already beginning to tire me out.

She dried herself quickly, towelling her hair briskly. As she dragged the towel down her face, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror above the bathroom sink. Her body was turned and so she saw the sharp bone of her shoulder and her pale, slender back. What drew her attention, however, was the ragged, narrow scar, about two inches long, that ran from the base of her skull along her spine.

Rukia's lips twisted into a grimace and through force of habit, her hand reached up and her fingers gently traced the scar. It no longer hurt but sometimes the memory of the pain felt just as real.

Shrugging it off, Rukia headed back into the apartment and began rummaging through her small dresser drawer for clothes.

"Doc, call Kurosaki," she ordered as she slipped on a pair of jeans.

"Calling…"

Her cell phone, which lay on the surface of her desk, blinked to life before the boy's number flashed across the screen.

After a few moments, the line picked up.

"Ichigo—"

"Rukia-kun!" interrupted a cheerful voice on the other end. "This is Orihime."

Rukia exhaled heavily, pausing in shrugging on a sweater. "Inoue-san. How are you?" she asked politely.

"Fine thank you," the girl replied. "And you, Rukia-kun?"

"Just Rukia is fine, Inoue-san. And I'm alright." Rukia sat down on the edge of her bed and started to lace up her sneakers. "I need to speak to Ichigo."

"Kurosaki-kun went home for the day. It's his sisters' birthday."

Rukia arched an eyebrow, though the other girl couldn't see it, and cursed silently. So that was true, then? Not just a part of the charade we acted out yesterday. "Do you know where they live, Inoue-san?"

Orihime gladly gave her the address and added, "He's not going to be there the whole day, I think. You know how it is with him and his father." The girl gave such a deep sigh Rukia felt it on her end of the conversation and frowned. She actually didn't know that much about Ichigo. Or any of them, for that matter.

"You can come have lunch with us, Rukia-kun," the girl said excitedly.

"Um, yeah, I'll think about it. Goodbye, Inoue-san."

"Bye, Rukia-kun!"

Rukia stood up. "Stereo, Doc," she ordered as she ran her fingers through her hair in lieu of a brush.

Doc turned the stereo off and said, "Shall I reserve a train ticket for Karakura Town?"

"Please. And you might as well book one for the return journey. I don't plan on staying any longer than necessary."

"Might I ask the purpose of this trip?"

"Recruitment," was all she said as she snatched up her phone. Doc appeared on the screen, giving her a disapproving look. Digital Doc was a rabbit. Rukia had rather liked the cute little creature. She thought of Doc as masculine and had given the animal white fur and long, floppy ears and had fashioned an attractive purple bowtie to its neck. Doc regularly complained about the form but Rukia had no intention of changing it.

"Don't give me that look, Doc," she scolded the image onscreen. "I know what I'm doing."

The rabbit gave her a dubious look but before he could say anything, she quickly slipped the phone into her pocket.

After hesitating a moment, she walked over to her laptop on her desk. She quickly opened her connection to the local Command Center and typed a quick message. She really couldn't help the small smirk that graced her features as she hit send. Still smiling, she left the apartment.

* * *

Rukia boarded the train and managed to find a relatively empty compartment. She had bought herself a scarf and baseball cap at one of those touristy shops at the station and so was confident that none of the cameras had seen her face. If she kept to herself, then hopefully no one would bother her.

There was only one other person in the compartment with her, a seemingly young man who sat a few rows up from her, so all she could see was the back of his head, where dark hair curled around his collar. He paid her no attention and though there was something odd about him she couldn't quite figure out, Rukia managed to relax as the train started forward.

Against her better judgement, she took the window seat. It was farther away from the corridor, and therefore made it harder to escape, should the need come. But the scenery that rolled outside the window was too alluring to resist. Breathtaking green hilly landscapes and flowering fields, with grazing animals and patches of forests. These were places the Court had not yet touched, had not yet urbanized and spoiled. Rukia had no problem with the city at all; she liked it there. But the beauty of this untouched countryside had something the cities did not.

No influence from the Court.

Rukia had not left Tokyo since she'd gotten there and it was oddly liberating, as if for a moment she could forget why she'd moved there in the first place.

Rukia felt herself falling asleep and though she knew she should fight it—knew that she could go for days without sleep and feeling tired after only one sleepless night was odd, the peaceful calm and gentle lull of the train made it hard to withstand. Nothing's going to happen, she told herself. I'm safe. And she drifted off.

* * *

_Everything looks new to me, she notes with disinterest. The walls are all clean and the furniture is neat and orderly. The sofa she is sitting on is firm but soft, clearly underused. But the house is old, I can tell. The glass in the windows is thicker at the bottom. The carpet is thin. The drinking glasses in the kitchen have chips around the edges. _

_Why has he brought me here?_

_He's left the door open and from her position in the living room she can see him unloading bags from the car. He looks tired but not sad and she still thinks he looks odd without his uniform. Hoisting two bags under his arms, he shuts the trunk of the car with his foot and comes into the house. She looks up at him with a blank expression. She's occupying as little space as possible, pressed against the arm of the sofa in what can only be an uncomfortable position, her knees drawn up with her arms locked around them. I am not scared. Not anymore. But my hands hurt. Why am I holding myself so tightly? _

_He sets the bags on the floor and straightens up._

"_Rukia," he says, uncharacteristically gentle. He doesn't yell at me anymore. No more orders. No more criticisms. Why not? _

_She cocks her head to the side, observing him but saying nothing, and he sighs. He walks over to her and sits down so that he's facing the small girl and reaches out to tuck a flyaway strand of her hair behind her ear. _

_She looks confused by the gesture, a frown pulling down sharply between her eyes. _

"_Rukia," he says again. "I told you. You're safe now. We're far away from them. They can't find us now. You don't need to be scared."_

_Safe? Am I safe? No, I will never be safe. You told me I will never be safe. Why are you lying to me now? _

_She shakes her head at him adamantly, pulling her lips in as her eyes widen. He sighs again, sounding bone-weary but offers her a small smile. She looks at him with interest. You've never smiled at me before. Only Captain Ukitake ever smiles at me. Renji used to smile at me…_

"_It will take a while to get used to," he continues. "Though I had hoped you would have snapped out of it by now. It's time to forget all of that, Rukia. It's all in the past now and we need to move on. I'll get us something to eat." He stands up and moves into the kitchen, rummaging through the bags of groceries he has bought._

_You haven't moved on. I can tell because you still wear that ring._

* * *

Something woke her up suddenly and she bolted upright, startled. Her dream—no, her _memory_, had been as clear as the day it had happened. Why am I remembering that now? Of all times. Rukia leaned back in her seat and dragged the sleeve of her sweater across her clammy forehead. Then she realized what had woken her up.

The train had stopped.

Bewildered, Rukia looked out the window but saw only stationary countryside. A million warning bells suddenly went off in her head, some of natural instinct, and some of inbred training that made the synapses in her brain lurch into overdrive.

Two windows on either side, she thought wildly. I can't use them if they're not meant to be opened. Four columns of seats, eight rows, one corridor in between. Useless! Six by fourteen by eight feet walls of lightweight steel, two reinforced doors. That can keep them out, or keep me in. Fifth compartment from the back, ninth compartment from the front. I can hear them moving about, talking in confusion but I _cannot_ involve innocent civilians. Two passengers in this compartment.

_Two…_

Rukia looked up at the man seated in the rows in front of her only to find that he wasn't seated at all. He was standing, walking towards the door that separated their compartment from the next, his back to her. Logically, she knew that he could have been investigating as any other passenger would. But something about the way he walked, calm and undisturbed, as though he wasn't particularly concerned, made her intensely uneasy.

Her hand gripped the back of the seat before her as she stood, moving out into the corridor. She realized that she'd made a mistake now. Selecting an under populated compartment only worked to her advantage if the other passengers meant her no harm. In a crowded compartment, it wasn't likely they'd do something, not with witnesses. By herself, however, it was easier for them to gang up on her.

_Stupid!_

"I wouldn't move," the man said calmly, not looking at her. "There's nowhere you can go, anyway."

Rukia stiffened. If she hadn't been prepared for the worst, if she hadn't been _used_ to preparing for the worst, she might have felt the fear she knew was inside her somewhere. She didn't. She just stared at the man's back calmly.

He reached forward and tapped the panel on the door. The small bar across the top was green, signalling that the door was open. He typed in something, a code most likely, and the word SECURED blinked briefly across the bar before it turned a flat red with a final click Rukia heard behind her as well. Both doors were now locked.

The man turned to face her and Rukia blinked her surprise.

He was deathly pale, even without the contrast of his black hair. If it weren't for the fact that she could see the small crease lines in his skin around his lips and nose, she would have believed his face was caked in powder. His lips were thin and narrow and black, though he didn't seem the type of male to wear lipstick. His eyes were staggeringly expressionless, bright green in colour but flat and almost lifeless. Two thin green lines fell down his cheeks and under his jaw, giving him a perpetually melancholic look but he didn't seem sad. In fact he didn't seem anything. He was slim but Rukia knew enough to know that the thickness of his wrist and the definition of his movements were not to be underestimated.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice even, betraying nothing. There was nothing to betray anyway. Against her will, Rukia found herself losing touch with reality. All she was aware of was now, this moment, with her and this man who had just locked them in this compartment. The outside world faded to a dull blur. Any variable that did not factor into this situation was automatically excluded from her brain while still remaining in the background, within immediate reach should it suddenly become useful. She was keenly aware of her own body, every limb and every muscle, ready to spring into action.

She was keenly aware of his body too, watching for every movement, any slight indication that he was going to move, in what direction, at what speed, at what force with what likely outcome.

But he was giving away as much as she was, which was absolutely nothing. In her combat state, she allowed some frustration to seep through. What is he planning to do?

He was completely relaxed and she was a bundle of tense muscles, ready to spring. Somehow, she could tell from his apathetic gaze that he was doing the same thing to her that she was doing to him: studying her, analyzing her.

"My name is Ulquiorra," he said calmly. "And I'm not here to injure you."

Like hell.

Rukia noted that he said 'injure' and not 'hurt', like he was telling the absolute truth. He may not do her bodily harm but he clearly was not confident that whatever he was going to do would not hurt her in other ways.

"What do you want?" she asked, keeping her tone as indifferent as his.

"To play a game," he replied, nothing other than his two black lips moving.

Rukia hated those words and his mere use of them told her that he knew this.

"I hate games, Ulquiorra-san," she replied. "But I don't suppose you care much, do you?"

He ignored her and said, "I shall ask you a question. For each one you reply honestly, I shall give you a day to return what you stole from the Court."

Rukia gave him a mild smile. She disregarded the thought of fighting. She could have easily defeated him, despite the difference in their sizes. But he had the advantage here, and she had no idea if he had friends ready to swoop in at the slightest notice. She had no weapons with her and she could not tell if he had any with him. Plus, she had the civilians to think about. An open fight would not lead to anything good. "I stole nothing from the Court, Ulquiorra-san. Everything I took when I escaped belonged to me. And that is not a lie," she added quickly.

He went on like she had not spoken. "The game begins now," he said. "What do you know of Captain Hitsugaya and his team?"

Rukia narrowed her eyes. Answering honestly went against all of her survival training. "What does it mean to you?"

"You will not answer with another question," Ulquiorra said, his tone never-changing but somehow reproachful.

"Then you'll not ask me a question twice," she countered. There were only so many ways she could avoid one question.

Ulquiorra's lips twitched in either admiration or irritation, Rukia couldn't tell.

"Very well," he said simply. "What are your contacts in the Gotei?"

"My friends."

"Who are your friends?"

"My contacts in the Gotei."

Ulquiorra frowned, the only expression to mar his fine face, and Rukia could not help but smile in victory.

"What is your connection to Kurosaki Ichigo and the Third Generation?"

"We are not even friends."

"I did not ask you what you were not."

"Then you should have been more specific."

Ulquiorra's lips flattened. "How large is the Third Generation?"

"As large as their numbers permit," she returned.

"And what are their numbers, in terms of quantity of persons currently affiliated with the group?"

Rukia remained silent. Ulquiorra gave her a look that moved no muscles in his face but which she guessed to be his version of smugness.

"You asked for specificity, did you not?"

Rukia's lips turned down in a dangerous frown. "No more than ten," she said through gritted teeth.

"Are they powerful?"

"They're just kids."

"So are you."

Rukia cocked her head to the side, giving him a darkly amused look. "If I didn't know better, I'd say that was _admiration_, Ulquiorra-san."

"Answer the question," he ordered plainly.

"They are a force to be reckoned with," she said reluctantly. "You should run."

"And what is their attitude towards the Court?"

"Completely apathetic," Rukia said carefully. "They're just trying to move on with their lives. Trying to forget about everything that happened." It wasn't exactly a lie, and she hoped he bought it.

For a while, he said nothing, just observed her indifferently. Then he said, "Very well. You have five days to return the electronic chip you stole from the Court." Rukia ran through the questions in her head and realized he had not believed her last answer.

He turned and touched the panel on the door again. The light turned green.

"Or what?" she asked quickly.

The door swung open, revealing the confused passengers in the other compartment, sitting or standing around looking puzzled.

Ulquiorra looked over his shoulder at her.

"Checkmate."

And he was gone, disappearing into the other compartment.

After a moment taken to let the effect of the word die out, Rukia lurched forward and followed him. As she pushed through the other passengers, she heard the voice of the conductor on the speakers overhead.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the problem has been rectified and we will be re-embarking in one minute. Please secure yourselves to your seats. Once again, we apologize for the inconvenience."

_Shit!_

Rukia moved faster, leaping from one compartment to the other just in time to see a dark head turn sharply right. In the back of her mind, she realized that other announcements must have been made, yet she hadn't heard any.

She reached the door just as the train shuddered into motion. She gripped the edge of the open door, the wind whipping her hair back. She couldn't see him and she was aware that one of the other passengers was telling her sharply to close the door. They were automatic doors, how did he expect her to close it? How had it been opened in the first place?

Rukia's eyes scanned the docile countryside as the train gained speed. He was gone, however, and the only thing that lingered of his presence was the echo in her head.

_Checkmate._

* * *

Rukia looked up at the Kurosaki Clinic with curiosity. So his father's a doctor, then? How unexpected.

The cap she had bought was held in her left hand, the scarf folded neatly over her arm. She had managed to regain her composure after Ulquiorra's interrogation though she still felt troubled. Obviously, he'd been working for the Court. They knew she still possessed the chip but they had never demanded she give it back before. Why now? Why even give her the option to give it up? If they could have so easily trapped her, why hadn't they just taken her, tortured the truth out of her and then killed her? They _need_ me for something. But what?

She could see figures moving about inside through the windows, four if she was correct, which she probably was. Every now and then, she caught strains of laughter and Rukia almost felt guilty for what she was about to do. Almost.

She walked up to the door and rang the bell.

"The door!" she heard a voice exclaim on the other side.

"Hey! I thought you said this was a family thing?"

"We have friends, you know, Ichi-nii."

The door swung open so violently, Rukia jumped. She looked up at the man towering over her, all broad shoulders and muscles, dressed in clean work clothes. A party hat was arranged lopsidedly on his head, a bright red whistle dangling from his lips. He had straggly black hair and a bristly beard but Rukia knew immediately who he was. Kurosaki's father, huh? The resemblance is…startling, even without the orange hair.

"Good day, Kurosaki-san," she said politely.

"Hello, little girl!" the man boomed, loud enough to alert half the neighbourhood, Rukia was sure. "This is a joyous occasion! The birthday of my two lovely daughters!"

"Congratulations," Rukia said.

Ichigo appeared in the doorway, his eyes narrowing when he saw Rukia. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

Rukia's lips quirked at the bright pink party hat atop his head and the boy flushed before hastily removing it.

"I was in the area," she said smoothly. "And remembered that Ichigo mentioned his sisters' birthday."

"Well, you weren't invited, you midget—"

"Of course you're invited!" his father interrupted him. "The more the merrier! Come in, uh..."

"Rukia," she supplied and at his odd look added quickly, "Just Rukia."

"Ah, well, okay! Come in, Rukia. We were just about to cut the cake!" and the hyperactive man grabbed her arm and dragged her into the house, past a scowling Ichigo. He took her to the kitchen, where two young girls waited.

One was lighting candles on a pretty, decorated cake while the other sat back in her chair and watched lazily. As their father dragged her in, the girls looked up, surprised and confused at her presence.

"Girls, this is Rukia!" the man shouted. "She's Ichigo's friend!"

"Ah, no," Rukia said quickly. "We're just...um..."

"Acquaintances," Ichigo supplied from the kitchen doorway, having caught up with a dark, suspicious expression.

"I'm Yuzu," the girl lighting candles said, smiling kindly. "A pleasure to meet you."

"And I'm Karin." The other added, giving Rukia a critical look. "Ichi-nii's never brought a girl home, before."

Ichigo looked a mixture of outraged and embarrassed. "Hey! I didn't _bring_ her, okay? She just...materialized." And he shot Rukia a dark look.

Yuzu had Ichigo's eyes and Karin had his scowl, but there weren't a lot of similarities between the twins. Karin's slate grey eyes were like her father's and she had his dark hair, cut short and sharp above her chin. Her fine face was almost bored, disinterested but intelligent and intense. Yuzu's was more open, her face kind and trusting. She had hair several shades lighter than Ichigo's and a wide, adorable smile. Yuzu _looked_ more like Ichigo but Karin _seemed_ more like him.

"Happy Birthday," Rukia said. She handed Yuzu the scarf wrapped around her arm, which the girl took with a delighted squeal, and tossed the baseball cap to Karin, who caught it with deft reflexes.

Yuzu walked around the kitchen table to give Rukia a grateful hug, which greatly shocked the latter. Karin stayed where she was, turning the cap around in her hands, looking just a bit suspicious.

"Thanks," was all she said.

"Oh, how sweet," their father cooed, tearing up. "You sure know how to pick them, Ichigo."

Ichigo shook his head in disgust and left the room. Rukia watched him go as Yuzu released her and went back to the cake.

"Where'd Ichi-nii go?" she asked in confusion. "I wanted to cut the cake with him and Karin."

Karin looked over at Rukia in accusation. Geez, this girl's got instincts, Rukia thought.

"I'll go get him," she muttered and quickly left the room.

Ichigo was sulking in the living room. He was sitting on the sofa, watching some banal program on the television when she entered. She hovered by the side of the sofa but he made no acknowledgment that he knew she was there. After a minute of silence, she sighed.

"Ichigo—"

"Do you know how much danger you're putting them in?" he said softly, his eyes fixated on the television screen. "Just by being here?"

"I covered my tracks," she replied. "I'm good at that." For his sake, she decided not to tell him about Ulquiorra, or the apparent breach in her security.

Ichigo sighed. "Why did you come here, Rukia? I thought you'd be halfway around the globe by now."

"With the travel restrictions?" she said incredulously. "The furthest I can go is Europe. Never mind that, Ichigo. I came here to talk."

Ichigo scoffed but moved over so that she could sit next to him. Rukia folded her hands in her lap, calm and collected, her eyes following the movements of the characters on the television screen.

"Firstly, allow me to apologize," she began. "I did not mean to intrude."

"Then why did you?"

"It is important."

"Isn't it always?" he grumbled and the glare she sent his way softened quickly.

"I really did not want to," she said. "Had the situation been different...Look, I'm not going to run this time. Call me stupid," she added quickly at his expression, "But I'm sick and tired of playing their games. And even if I run, that's not going to stop them. They're not just going to forget about me, about what I did."

"If you stay, they'll kill you," Ichigo pointed out flatly.

Rukia frowned, thinking back to her encounter with Ulquiorra on the train. "I suppose they will," she said calmly. "In fact, I'm counting on it."

"So you're a martyr now?" he said scornfully and she knew he didn't believe her. Whatever. It didn't matter.

"I'm a fighter," she said bitterly. "Which is what they trained me to be. Well, you can't just forget something you've learned to be. It stays with you for the rest of your life. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about."

His face remained stony for a moment before he sighed in defeat. "I can't go anywhere without looking over my shoulder," he muttered.

"And I can't help but make sure no cameras ever see my face," she said. "And it's not always something I do consciously. Look, I'm going to do something very stupid and very crazy."

"Or die trying?"

_And_ die trying, she thought but she didn't say it out loud. "What they did to me, to us, can't be repeated," she said carefully. "It has to end. And I've just about reached my limit of endurance."

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked suspiciously. "You don't think I'd help you, do you?"

Rukia remained silent for a while, letting the voices and laughter from the kitchen drift into the living room. "I am brilliant, Ichigo," she said evenly. "As they intended. But I cannot do this on my own. I don't care that they're coming for me now. I just want to meet them head on, hold them accountable for what they did. You and I weren't just random selections, Ichigo. We had a purpose, one we never fulfilled. If we don't stop them now, who's to say they won't try again with someone else?"

Ichigo narrowed his eyes. "What—"

"Karin's quite talented, isn't she?" Rukia said softly.

Ichigo's entire body went rigid and his eyes flashed, for a moment flickering yellow. His mouth opened to say something but no words presented themselves and Rukia went on as though his anger did not affect her at all.

"She has that natural instinct, yes? She knows when something is wrong. She's wilful, strong, not easily targeted. And she's smart, too. She doesn't trust easily and she can think on her own."

"Stop—"

"These are the qualities that make her who she is. Tell me, Ichigo, what would you do if the Court decides that these are qualities that would make her useful to them?"

"They would never—"

Rukia turned apathetic eyes to him. "Why not? It's exactly why they took you. Do you really think the fact that you're her brother will protect her? On the contrary, Ichigo, it will only make them want her more."

Ichigo struggled to speak and managed, "I'll never let that happen."

Rukia leaned back in her seat, draping one leg over the other as her hands clasped together in her lap. "And how are you going to do that? You alone are no match for them and you know it. If they want her, if they want anyone, then that person becomes theirs. You and I and the others are proof of that."

Ichigo said nothing though his hands clenched and unclenched where they lay on his thighs.

"I'm not that heartless to ask you to do this for me," she continued, voice ever calm. "For I understand that we mean almost nothing to each other. I won't even go so far as to ask you to do it for them, either. That is not my place. But I know you will anyway. This is why I am asking you now, before you become involved through another route, one that might possibly endanger your family."

Ichigo turned to look at her, his expression unfathomable. "And if I don't want to?"

"Honestly," Rukia said, looking away. "I don't want you to either."

The silence stretched between them. Rukia looked at the television without seeing it, aware of the boy's intense gaze on her.

"Fine," he said. "I'll help you."

Rukia stood and glanced down at him. "You can say no. I was expecting you to."

"I know. Which is exactly why I'm saying yes."

And she smiled at him, a small but meaningful smile.

Ichigo stood himself and hastily looked away, an unreadable look crossing his features before his face disappeared from her view. "We'll meet with the Third Generation tomorrow," he said.

"Good."

"Ichigo! Rukia-kun! Can we please cut the cake now? The candles are melting!"

Rukia checked the time. "I should go..."

"What? Are you kidding?" Ichigo gave her an incredulous look. "You barge in here, interrupt my sisters' birthday, engage me in some sort of vigilante vendetta and then you just want to leave? I don't think so. You're _staying_."

Rukia gaped at him as he grabbed her arm and towed her towards the kitchen. She could have resisted, could have knocked him out in seconds and the inbred instinct within her to do so was hard to resist. But she allowed it, thinking she had just gotten him involved in something he probably wasn't going to walk out of alive.

* * *

Hitsugaya dropped wearily into the chair behind his new desk, wondering where the day had gone. After their ship had docked and they had arrived at the Command Centre, they had been immediately swept up in the inner workings of the Centre, walking long tours and meeting every officer that resided there, it seemed.

The Centre's commanding officer had spared nothing to ensure that the visiting officers were well acquainted with the place. Hitsugaya had never met someone as unprofessional as Urahara. From his sandaled feet to the ridiculous hat he wore, the man radiated an infuriating aura of annoyance. He hid his face behind a pleated fan, made many mysterious remarks he never followed up on and seemed to take pleasure in irking everyone. All of Hitsugaya's attempts to get his little team to behave themselves seemed futile when standing next to him.

With his patchwork team and their host, Hitsugaya had long made the conclusion that this was going to be a trying mission on his nerves.

He rubbed at his temples, trying to consciously ignore the headache currently assaulting his senses courtesy his subordinates' loud behaviours. At least he had an office to himself here. Even Matsumoto wasn't welcome. They had given him his own quarters as well and though everyone had retired for the night, he had decided to put a dent in some paperwork, especially as it seemed his lieutenant was less likely to do her share while on the mainland.

In his darkened office, he powered up the somewhat outdated computer, its glow bathing his body in an oddly ghostly light, and as he had never been assigned to a Command Centre before, had never touched their system at all, he was quite surprised to see that a message was awaiting him.

Brows furrowing in confusion mixed with a healthy dose of suspicion, he opened it.

_Welcome to Tokyo, Captain Hitsugaya—_

At first, he thought it was something Urahara had done. But then he noted that the origin of the message was unidentified. He tried launching a search but the signal rerouted right back to him. There was a loop there somewhere and genius he may be, he could not figure out how it had been done.

He hesitated for a moment, contemplating what to do. Then he typed a reply.

* * *

Rukia stood outside the Kurosaki Clinic, her back to the house, just out of the light spilling from the windows, her slight figure outlined by shards of moonlight bleeding through thick clouds hung low in the indigo sky. She smiled at the message on the screen of her phone.

_Who are you?_

Her fingers were deft as they flew across the touch screen keypad as she started down the street. The sound of Ichigo ordering his sisters to bed faded quickly and, with an oddly satisfied grin, she shoved the phone into her pocket before she stepped out of the moonlight and became lost in the surrounding darkness.

_I am the Genesis._


	4. The Third Generation

**So like, my brother is going to Japan for six months...and I'm not. No biggie. I'll just stay here and write fanfiction. And cry.**

**Acknowledgements****:**

**Sabine-Thanks, though sorry about making you wait and go through-_that_. Momo will magically appear sometime in the near future. _Interaction_ between Rukia and Hitsugaya happens soon and often. The actual _meeting_ has a whole chapter dedicated to it with first impressions and whatnot. I actually didn't describe either Rukia or Hitsugaya because I wanted the description to come from their first meeting and what they thought of each other-if that makes sense. Call it dystopian if you like-I just wanted the technological edge and interaction stuff. The scores are explained in an upcoming chapter so you can look out for that. :)  
**

**SeaShellSakura-Thanks. Yeah, it's an AU. :)  
**

**Wintersia-Thank you. I will try to update regularly (keyword here being _try_). :)**

**Midori no yume-No regrets needed; I didn't mind what you said. It was very thoughtful and I did take it into consideration and thought about it a lot. I am going to try to keep the zanpakutou stuff without complicating things, though of course, they won't be 'soul cutters' anymore. :)**

**Hitsugaya Fiore-chan-I will continue, thanks. :)**

**JigokuNoChou1104-Riveting is a compliment I have never gotten before-thank you. :)**

**Everybody gets a smilie face!**

**Am I the only one who thinks Ukitake is hot...?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own.**

* * *

**Chapter Three:  
The Third Generation**

* * *

"She's awake."

"Good. How was the infiltration?"

"Almost perfect."

"Almost?"

"There were some…complications. But they've been resolved and we're ready to move forward as soon as she's rested."

"She's been in a coma for three months, I want her now."

"She'll die before she makes it through the first simulation and you can't risk her life right now. She's the closest we're likely to ever get."

"She'll survive. The chip will make sure of that."

"I still can't believe you're trusting the most potent piece of technology we have to a child."

"She's a weapon, not a child."

"And you're a monster."

"And she'll learn to be one, too."

* * *

Hitsugaya had gotten no sleep and thus he was _exceptionally_ testy the next morning. It didn't help that he had made up his mind about what he should do about his situation—his decision happening to be what he knew he should have done from the beginning, which only served to make him more irritable—and was now standing outside the doors that led to Urahara's office.

He gritted his teeth, a habit he wasn't fond of, and knocked.

"Come in!"

Hitsugaya winced at the sing-song tone and pushed the door open. The office was standard size with standard furniture. The only noteworthy feature was the wide window that allowed adequate sunlight but offered a rather unremarkable view of the street below. Urahara was behind his desk, or more accurately, behind his fan. Between that item and the hat pulled down over his eyes, it was a wonder anyone ever saw his face. His sandaled feet were propped up on one end of the desk as he sat reclined in his chair, tapping absently at his keyboard. There was a small red stress relieving ball on his desk, though Hitsugaya couldn't think of a plausible reason why the man would need to relive stress. More than likely, he was usually the cause of it in others. Urahara was not the only one in the room, Hitsugaya realized, seeing the two young children huddled in one corner, bickering over files they were placing in the filing cabinet. Hitsugaya wasn't surprised to see children—a great deal of officers were promoted at a young age as the Gotei's system was based on skill; he himself had started at a remarkably young age. They paid no attention to him, however, too occupied with whatever they were doing.

Urahara looked up as he entered and Hitsugaya got the feeling that he smiled, though of course he couldn't see it.

"Captain Hitsugaya," the man greeted him. "Good morning. What can I do for you?"

Hitsugaya closed the door behind him, noting with some confusion the small hoop attached to it on the inside. He glanced at the two young children in the corner of the room. Urahara quickly picked up on it.

"Ah…" he said, and turned his head in their direction, pulling his feet from the desk. "Jinta, Ururu, go find Tessai and tell him we'll need a car for later this afternoon."

"But you just asked us to do this!" the boy, whom Hitsugaya assumed was Jinta, complained, waving some files in his hand.

Urahara fluttered his fan. "Well, now I'm asking you to do this," he said simply, and the smile was clear in his voice.

Jinta muttered under his breath but grabbed the quiet Ururu and all but dragged the compliant girl out the office, barely giving Hitsugaya more that a glance.

When they were alone, he turned to the older man and said, "Is it possible for an unidentified network to access this database?"

Urahara seemed amused, though it was very hard to tell. "Of course not!" he said, waving his fan around as though he found the idea ridiculous. "Our system is built specifically to detect and prevent that sort of thing. Trust me, I designed it myself."

Ignoring the evident arrogance, Hitsugaya folded his arms. "Then please explain to me why I received a message yesterday from such a network."

Urahara lowered his fan, his lips turning down. Gone was the happy-go-lucky attitude from before. It was as though Hitsugaya had flipped a switch with his words. So the man was capable of being serious after all.

"When?" he asked the youth, sitting up abruptly.

"Late last night," Hitsugaya replied, frowning.

"That should be impossible," the man mused, more to himself than to the young captain. "After all, the only person capable of that is myself and—" he stopped abruptly, giving Hitsugaya a sharp glance. "What did the message say exactly?" he asked quietly.

Hitsugaya shrugged. "It was only a welcoming message." He frowned at the man. "Why?"

Ignoring this, Urahara went on, "Anything else?"

Hitsugaya hesitated. "I sent a reply," he said slowly.

"Asking who they were," he guessed. "What did they say?"

Hitsugaya observed the man before him, weighing something in his mind. "The Genesis," he said carefully. "That was it."

Urahara adopted a thoughtful expression but if he recognized the term, he didn't show it. He rested his elbows on the surface of the desk and gave the captain a lengthy look. "Very well, Captain Hitsugaya," he said, his tone serious. "I will personally look into it. Until then, if you receive any more of these messages, you are obligated to report them to me. For now, I think it's wise if this was kept between just the two of us."

Hitsugaya nodded.

"Now, back to business," Urahara said happily, bouncing back to his blithe form in a nanosecond. The change was almost neurotic and Hitsugaya found himself rolling his eyes.

The man grabbed a sheet of paper on his desk and waved it around. "I was given the motive of your mission," he went on cheerily and by the lilt in his voice, Hitsugaya knew that he knew the truth about the mission anyway, whether he had been told or had figured it out, he didn't know.

Urahara leaned back in his chair and once again propped his feet up on his desk. "This is a list of assignments for your team," he continued, handing it over to him. "You know, scouting. Schools to be visited, promising little kids to be recruited, visiting the mayor, catching petty criminals…that sort of thing."

Hitsugaya looked at the list and tried not to cringe.

"Captain Ukitake—"

"Has been notified and is waiting for you in the main meeting room," Urahara supplied, punctuating his words by picking up the red ball and throwing it across the room. It went straight through the hoop on the door, bounced on the floor and then flew right back into his open palm.

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes.

* * *

The electronic chip Ulquiorra had given Rukia five days to return was smaller than the fingernail on her thumb. It was a perfect square, black and shiny as though covered in lacquer. On one edge was a small line of golden squares and on the underside the characters _GP001_ were embossed.

Rukia looked at it in her palm, watching the way the sun glinted on its smooth surface. It didn't look like much but it felt heavier in her hand that it realistically was.

"I told you to destroy it," Doc said. Her phone was laid flat on her bed next to her and the rabbit was looking up at her with an uneasy expression, his ears twitching nervously.

Rukia hefted the chip in her hand as though gauging its weight. "It's the only leverage I have," she replied. "Besides myself, of course."

"It makes you a target," the computer argued.

"I'm a target anyway."

"Do you even know what's on it?" Doc asked, sounding defeated.

Rukia shook her head. "But I can guess. Not anything I don't already know at any rate."

Her fingers curled around the small device protectively. She had never tried to read it for the simple reason that putting it in a computer made the information vulnerable. Once a computer had read data, there would be a memory of it in the system somewhere, no matter how much you deleted. Rukia knew that the chip was the only copy and she wasn't about to share it.

The screen of her phone blinked and Ichigo's number flashed across in loud red digits. She answered on the third ring after safely replacing the chip in its hiding place.

"Kurosaki," she said smoothly.

"I'm at the bus station," he said curtly and then hung up.

Rukia made a face at the phone and then checked her messages.

"You've got no new messages," Doc said irritably. "I would let you know if he sent a reply. Now stop checking."

She rolled her eyes but had to admit to herself that she had hoped the Captain would have replied. Perhaps I shouldn't have been so cryptic, she thought, he's probably suspicious. Shaking it off for now, she stood up and started to get ready. Meeting the Third Generation required a level of preparedness—this she had learned the hard way last time and she didn't intend on repeating it.

* * *

Ichigo was impatient.

"What took you so long?" he demanded, glaring down at the impassive girl standing under the bus stop awning.

Rukia raised an eyebrow. "I only took five minutes," she said calmly.

Ichigo huffed but apparently could not dispute the truth of her words. His gaze swept her critically.

"I see you took into consideration our dress code."

Rukia rolled her eyes. She was wearing camouflage pants and boots she had managed to find in the deepest depths of her closet. Her t-shirt was black and unmarked and the worn black leather jacket could have easily been older than she was. Not exactly the prettiest outfit but it was adequate. Really, all she was missing was the tribal face paint.

"Can we go now?" she pressed, looking over her shoulder at the few pedestrians on the sidewalk. She had this distinct feeling of being watched, though all her years of training could not help her point out by whom or from where. She hadn't really been looking out for tails in the past few months; there hadn't been any reason to. With a feeling of dread, she cursed her carelessness. How long had they been watching her? It could have been weeks.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, come on," Ichigo drawled, leading the way down the street.

Rukia didn't try to make conversation as they walked and neither did he. Though she still knew the way after her one previous visit, she let him lead, knowing it would make him feel somewhat important.

There weren't a lot of people about, not on a Sunday. There were families around but there was something very distinct about them. Each had only one child. There was no exception to the rule. This was one of the New World's laws. Each registered couple could legally have only one child. If the birth of a second had not been cleared by the Court, then the child would not be recognized as a citizen and would be denied the rights of free education and healthcare, among other benefits, not to mention both them and their parents would be deemed outcasts. Most parents never took the risk.

Major cities also usually had a curfew. At a set time, determined locally, all commercial business had to cease. All sounds and lights that could affect others had to be off by then. One needed permission first to have lights on after the given time.

There were also transportation regulations, both nationally and internationally. The number of personal vehicles allowed depended on the population density of the area. It was quite easy to get a driver's licence but much more difficult to acquire a car. Once an application had been filed, if you were deemed fit to possess a vehicle, the Court would distribute one based on income, need and purpose. You really had little say in what you got. In order to encourage carpooling, some roads were only open to vehicles with at least three registered drivers as passengers. And some roads were open based on societal status and occupation. It was all a complicated system, which was why Rukia preferred to walk.

It wasn't really a bad system. Losing a bit of freedom had made them healthier and more efficient. The downside was that they were now too dependent, which was why they listened to whatever the Court said without question, why they had won every election for the past two decades and would continue to do so into the future.

Rukia deliberately tried not to pass judgement.

Ichigo was leading her into a quieter, darker part of town. The glow from before was slowly fading. The state of the buildings started to deteriorate, fewer cars appeared on the roads and there were even less people on the streets. Eventually, it was only them trudging the crumpling pavement amidst closed stores with broken widows and the occasional flutter of a torn curtain from a high window, though no one showed their face. Rukia knew that people lived in these run down, uncared for, almost abandoned parts of town. Ichigo did.

The air was thicker here, not as clean. It was also darker, as though one big fat grey cloud was hung permanently before the sun. And it was cold. Rukia knew she wasn't as affected by cold as everybody else but this kind of cold didn't seem natural. As she breathed in, it seemed to sink into her lungs and stick to her insides, permeating her body from the inside out.

Ichigo looked down at her from the corners of his eyes as she buried her hands in her pockets, hunching her shoulders a bit.

"There's no electricity here," he said, as if by way of explanation. "No utilities or social services at all."

She glanced up at him. "I know."

"Do you know why?" he asked, eyes locked ahead of them as though this was banal to him.

Rukia hesitated. It couldn't have been because they couldn't afford electricity. There was a place in society for everyone, even the outcasts. If they had wanted help, the people who lived here would have received plenty from the government. That's just how things worked. If you were displaced, or homeless, or whatever, then you would be assessed based on physical, mental and intellectual capabilities. You'd then be given a place to live depending on convenience, a job depending on skill and education level, medical attention if it were needed and support for the first month or so.

No one was exempt from this offer. So Rukia decided that the people who lived here hadn't sought help from their rulers. And they probably had a reason.

"This place"—Ichigo swept his hand around them in a wide arc—"was one of the first places deemed irretrievable. When the Court first started to remodel, they separated the country into two categories; supporters and opposition. We weren't born then but my dad used to tell me stories. People who could be bought and threatened into servitude were bought and threatened. People who couldn't…had their lives destroyed."

Rukia didn't bat an eyelash. "Doesn't surprise me," she said calmly. "I know a lot worse."

"Well, I'm giving you some perspective," Ichigo replied.

She said nothing.

The buildings around them were now clearly uninhabited, roofs caved in, chunks of walls missing, everything overgrown with weeds and grass. There was an unsettling silence that hung around them because nothing moved. There was literally no one there to make a sound. Rukia was acutely aware of the shuffle her feet made on the deteriorating asphalt, the sound of her breath passing through her throat. Strangely enough, Ichigo made no sound at all, as if he had long integrated with the area.

"This way."

She followed as he turned unto a street, walking briskly to the boarded up entrance of an abandoned train station. Planks of rotting wood were slapped across the entrance, vines of some parasitic plant curling around them. But Rukia could see the breaks where certain planks were regularly removed and she remembered the sequence from her previous visit.

Ichigo brushed away the vines and carefully detached two of planks, revealing a space big enough for her to fit through at her full height, Ichigo too, if he bent a bit.

Rukia frowned. "Why don't you remove the others?" she questioned.

Ichigo raised an eyebrow at her. "How do you know that others can move?"

Rukia gave him a look. "I can tell which ones are regularly removed, Ichigo. And so can everybody else. Real nice security there."

Ichigo backed up, the wooden boards held under his arm. "The others are removed so that Chad can pass. But that's not necessary seeing as it's only you and me."

"You and I," Rukia corrected vaguely.

Ichigo ignored her. "Ladies first."

Resisting the urge to argue the implied sexism, Rukia ducked her head and stepped into the darkness beyond. Instead of the stone step she'd been expecting, she found her feet engulfed in frigid water that lapped roughly at her feet, rising at an alarming rate and intensity. The unexpectedness of it tore a cry from her lips before her hand clamped over her mouth and she forced herself to stay calm. She could hear Ichigo chuckling behind her.

Fucking bastard.

As far as she knew, the stairs she assumed was still under all the water descended more than fifteen feet into the ground. More than that, it opened into a large station that branched off into wide tunnels. There was no way for the water to have reached this high, it was simply impossible.

Rukia relaxed immediately and abruptly, the water just disappeared. In the darkness, she turned to glare at Ichigo as he stepped in and started replacing the planks, blocking out the little light.

"Simulation gas?" she hissed. "Seriously?"

Ichigo's white teeth flashed as he grinned. "What was that about security, now?"

"Bastard."

Ichigo shuffled around next to her and then suddenly the darkness was illuminated by the warm orange glow of fire. Rukia turned to see him holding an old fashioned lamp in his hand, a single candle glowing merrily inside. He had used a flashlight last time, she remembered distantly.

"No electricity," he reminded her upon seeing her look. "And we can't spare the battery power we have on things like this. Come."

He started down the stairs, holding the lamp high so it cast a wide circle around them.

"Is it safe?" Rukia asked sarcastically, but she followed him anyway.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, splashes of orange and darkness casting his face. "The simulation gas wears off once you've realized what it is."

"Okay, so if no one actually drowns, how's that supposed to keep you guys safe?" she asked.

"The water simulation is supposed to take you under," he explained, "And once you've actually inhaled the gas, you're out cold."

Rukia glared at him and even if he had his back to her, she was pretty sure he could feel it. "You could have warned me, you bastard," she said venomously.

"Meh, where's the fun in that?" he responded, shrugging carelessly.

"This is payback for your sisters' birthday, isn't it?" she realized.

He paused. "Maybe," he said. "My family likes you. They think you're sweet." He said it flatly; there wasn't a trace of anything in his voice.

"Heh, good thing you know better," she huffed.

He said nothing.

The bottom of the stairs was better illuminated. They must have been expected, as torches and lamps were hung around the open area. The place was deserted, tiled walls crumbling, old posters faded to a bleached white. The old ticket booth was boarded up and decorated in cobwebs. There was a heavy smell of sulphur and staleness in the air.

Ichigo took her to the very edge of the platform, where the tunnel began. Thrusting his lamp forward, she could see the old metal tracks below. With practiced ease, Ichigo jumped down, landing squarely on his feet before looking up at her expectantly.

Rukia jumped down next to him, graceful even then and met his briefly startled look smugly.

Rolling his eyes, he just turned and started down the track. "Don't worry about the third rail," he said. "Ishida sucked out whatever power was left in that a long time ago. Completely harmless now."

Rukia just nodded. A spider crawled over her shoe with long spindly legs and somewhere in front of them a rat squeaked but she was not bothered by such things.

They followed the tracks for more than a mile in silence before their path was abruptly blocked by a stone wall, stretched across the tunnel so that nothing bigger than a rat could pass through. Cracks ran rampant throughout the entire surface, showing where the stones had been joined together; nevertheless, it looked sturdy enough. Rukia reached out and tapped the stone with her knuckles.

"This wasn't here last time," she commented.

Ichigo didn't answer. Instead, he kicked the wall violently and yelled, "Oi, Tatsuki, open the door!"

Rukia winced as his voice echoed in the tunnel, almost drowning out the muffled reply from the other side.

"What's the password, Ichigo?"

"Idiot! Why do you need the damn password if you know it's me?"

"Password."

"When I get my hands on you…"

There was a sudden grinding noise that had Rukia stepping back hastily. A rough rectangle of stone in the wall shifted, moving back before sliding to the side to reveal Tatsuki. She was around Rukia's age, taller though, with short dark hair that rose like a spiky wave over her head. She was wearing short cargo pants and a t-shirt that showed about two inches worth of her flat stomach. If she was affected by the cold, she didn't show it.

"Hello, Tatsuki-san," Rukia greeted her.

"Rukia-san," the girl returned politely before unexpectedly delivering a kick to Ichigo's abdomen. "What was that about getting your hands on me?"

The boy doubled over in pain, cursing under his breath. Ignoring him, Tatsuki led Rukia inside. They had remodelled the place, Rukia noted with interest. Some walls had been knocked down to create more space so that it looked more like a cave than a tunnel. Partitions had been put up to section off the place, to allow privacy perhaps. They had more furniture, unarranged and unmatched, whatever rejects they could find. The room she was in was littered with a few mismatched chairs and sofas, in lieu of a living room, she mused. It was lit with various candles, from plain long white ones to small decorative ones. It seemed…nice, warm, welcoming in a way.

There were three other persons in the room waiting for them whom Rukia recognized with ease.

"Rukia-san!"

Rukia suddenly found herself embraced, thrown back a bit as dusky orange hair fluttered in her face.

"Hi, Inoue-san," she muttered, patting the girl somewhat awkwardly on the back.

As if sensing her discomfort, Orihime pulled back, looking apologetic. Rukia observed her critically. She appeared to be fine, bright and beaming as always. She seemed genuinely pleased to see Rukia, but then again Orihime was always genuine. Her long orange hair was neatly tucked behind her ears, bangs dusting her wide, childlike brown eyes. She was wearing a flower-patterned swaying skirt and a blouse that was stretched tight around her ample chest. Rukia really couldn't help the protectiveness she felt for the girl; it was like worrying over a small child.

Rukia looked at the other two occupants. "Ishida-san. Sado-san."

Ishida gave her a nod of acknowledgement, adjusting his thin glasses on his narrow nose. He was tall and almost fragile looking, with a narrow face and slim physique. His dark hair hung down one side of his face, the rest pulled back neatly behind his ear.

Sado, on the other hand, stepped forward and dropped one of his large hands on her wiry shoulder.

"Ichigo said you needed our help," he said, his deep voice reverberating quietly around the room.

Rukia looked up at the man who was more than twice her height. Through the shock of dark hair falling before his eyes, she could see his kind expression. The Gentle Giant, she thought, and nodded her head.

"Something like that."

Ichigo came up behind her, massaging his stomach where Tatsuki had kicked him. "Let's go to the lab and talk about it," he suggested.

Rukia raised an eyebrow. "Lab?"

"It's Ishida-kun's computer room," Orihime answered. "Kurosaki-kun calls it the lab because he thinks Ishida-kun does weird experiments there."

"He's never denied it," Ichigo argued, pointing a finger at the bespectacled boy.

Ishida folded his arms, looking faintly annoyed. "If I did, I'd never tell you, now would I? This way, Rukia-san."

The 'lab', as Ichigo had dubbed it, was nothing more than a small room packed with tables of computers and a few chairs. Rukia guessed that most of their battery power was funnelled into this room. There was no way they would have survived without a technological advantage. Ishida cleared away a few things and motioned for them to have a seat. Rukia settled into a folding chair and looked at the four expectant—Ichigo was scowling—faces looking at her.

"I suppose you know what Ichigo told me two days ago?" she began. "I won't ask how you got the information. I probably don't have to. But the Gotei dispatched a team yesterday, but so far, they haven't done anything yet. I don't suppose they know exactly what they're looking for."

Ishida leaned back in his seat, his fingers twitching over a computer keyboard. "I intercepted one of their transmissions a while ago," he said. "Hitsugaya something, right?"

"Toushiro," Rukia supplied, the name rolling effortlessly off her tongue. "Hitsugaya Toushiro."

Tatsuki stroked her chin thoughtfully. "Doesn't ring a bell as a Gotei Thirteen officer," she said.

"He's relatively new," Rukia explained. "Only been a Captain for a few years. What's more impressive is his Academy scores. He's the highest ranker currently. A prodigy. In both intellect and combat. I mean, he's a Captain, after all. But that's what makes me think they actually mean to find me this time—sending someone who uses his head more than he uses his sword."

"Are you afraid of them?" Ishida asked. "I mean, they've sent probes before. Are you asking for our help because they might have a chance of actually capturing you?"

Rukia frowned. "I have no intentions of being captured. This isn't the first time and while they may have a slight advantage now, if it fails, this won't be the last time, either. I was…_designed_ for situations like this so no, I'm not scared that they'll succeed this time. I'm just tired. I'm sure you feel the same."

They looked away from her but Rukia knew she was right. For her, this had started when she was still too young to know much different. But for them, they had been regular, if a little special, teenagers living normal lives before they were taken.

Orihime folded her hands in her lap and looked down at them. "I've always wanted to go back to school, you know," she said quietly.

Tatsuki pulled a face. "Why on earth would you want to go back there?"

Orihime smiled. "Ah, well, I was really good at it."

Tatsuki rolled her eyes.

"You've all lost something," Rukia said. "Your homes, friends, family"—she glanced at Ichigo, who resolutely ignored her—"And I'm sure most of you are burning for some revenge"—this time it was Ishida who avoided her gaze—"And now is probably the only chance we'll get."

"Are you sure?" Sado asked. "How do we know for sure that the time is right?"

Rukia hesitated. Then she said, "The Court's up to something. I don't know what or why but I know they had the opportunity to kill me yesterday and they didn't." Ignoring Ichigo's expression, Rukia quickly told them about what had happened on the train, leaving out Ulquiorra's ultimatum and anything to do with the chip. When she was done, she could see the weariness evident on their faces. Ichigo looked furious but he said nothing.

"So this Ulquiorra character," Tatsuki began. "Did he look like Gotei material or Court material."

"Actually, I think he was one of us," Rukia said thoughtfully.

Several eyebrows raised at that.

"You all know why you're called the Third Generation, correct?" Rukia continued. "Their genetic enhancement started with me, I'm referred to as the Genesis Project. You guys are called the Third Generation because you were their third attempt. Aren't we missing something here?"

"The second attempt?" Orihime suggested.

"Exactly. I'll bet Ulquiorra was that second attempt. I just don't know if he's an individual project like me or part of a group like you. He seemed more like me, though."

"Rigid and cold?" Ichigo asked.

Rukia scowled. "For want of a better description, yes. They took him when he was young."

"Does this mean you think we can turn them to our side?" Ishida asked dubiously.

"No, what it means is that the Court is using him or them. Your project was only experimental in any case. It was never supposed to be implemented. I'm guessing Ulquiorra wasn't like this. The fact that the Court is still using him means that they have great trust in him and any others in the project so they're probably too far gone. This also probably means that the Third Generation wasn't their last attempt."

"So you mean there are more of us out there?" Sado asked.

Rukia shrugged. "More than likely. After all, they needed us and we escaped. I don't think they'd give up that easily. And I never knew about other projects until I met you. I'm sure it was the same the other way around."

Ishida nodded. "We thought we were the only ones, until you came along. We should have suspected this from the beginning. Do you think they're still recruiting?"

"I think they realized their mistake in taking children older than five years," Rukia said. "The fact that you had already been orientated in life was one of the reasons you were only experiments. They couldn't fully override your point of view of the world."

Ichigo scoffed. "Doesn't mean they didn't try," he said darkly.

Rukia looked at him. "Only because they had great hope in you. You were probably one of the most promising ones they ever came across."

"Lucky me."

Rukia turned back to Ishida. "The difference between the two of us is that your natural abilities were modified and enhanced through training. Mine were bred within me at a young age. Sado's physical strength, Tatsuki's skill at karate and other martial arts, Ichigo's potency, Inoue's skill, even your intelligence, Ishida, were all things you possessed or would have eventually developed into before the Court even knew of your existence. These were then enhanced through their experiments. I, on the other hand, was implanted with the skills that I have." Rukia shrugged. "All that means is that I've got a better chance of retaining my abilities than you do, which will probably fade with age or neglect."

"And that means we're expendable," Ishida supplied.

"We're all expendable," she responded. "As soon as they're done with us, they'll kill us for convenience. The fact that they haven't yet isn't because they can't; it's because they need us for something. As long as they need us, we have a chance."

"But they've sent probes before," Tatsuki pointed out. "On all of us."

"To capture," Rukia answered. "Not eliminate."

"Okay," Ishida said, linking his hands together and leaning forward. "Say we agreed to help you, exactly what are we going to do?"

Rukia met each of their grim eyes with her own steely ones.

"I have a plan."

* * *

Hitsugaya had a headache. That wasn't a surprise. He reread the report in front of him for the third time, as if doing so would somehow change the words on the page.

It didn't.

For the second night in a row, he was the last one in the office. That didn't really surprise him. Apparently, his reputation preceded him and the officers of the Command Centre knew to stay out of his way. He only wished the members of his own team would leave him alone. He had split them up to take care of the list Urahara had given him. One would think that seasoned officers such as themselves, not to mention adults and a good few years older than him, would be able to handle themselves on their own.

They couldn't.

He tossed the report aside, deciding he had had enough, and reached over to switch off his computer. He paused.

Something Urahara had said had been disturbing him. It had been nagging him since he had heard it.

_If you receive any more of these messages, you are obligated to report them to me. For now, I think it's wise if this was kept between just the two of us._

The only reason Hitsugaya could think of to keep what had happened between the two of them was not to cause panic. That and maybe the man didn't want it out that a system he had made had been hacked. But why would he say obligated? It was almost as if he was telling him he should report it to him…but that he didn't have to. Why? Did he not want to know if it happened again?

Or was he encouraging it?

Hitsugaya pulled himself right up to his desk and logged on to the Gotei's server. He typed in _Genesis_ and sat back as the results loaded.

His computer beeped, a bright red warning flashing across the screen.

_**CLASSIFIED: LEVEL 1 CLEARANCE REQUIRED.**_

Hitsugaya sat up and frowned. A Level 1 Clearance was at the Commander's status. The Gotei had a code system. Different codes allowed for access to different databases. Codes were handed out based on rank and level of authority. As a captain, Hitsugaya knew most of them. This, however, was a step above him.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard.

He did not have the authority to access these files but that didn't mean he didn't know how. Being the genius he was, he had long realized that the code system had a pattern. He could easily deduce the code he needed.

But could he do this? He would be breaking so many codes of conduct, laws even. But he found that he didn't care. He should, but he didn't. It bothered him but he shoved it aside and entered the code.

His search yielded only one result—a single folder labelled _GP001_. He was about to press the button when something flashed across the screen.

_**REROUTING TO UNIDENTIFIED NETWORK.**_

Before he could react, it was gone and his screen was back to its normal mundane background. Then he saw that he had a message. With some trepidation, he opened it. It was from an unknown source, the same one from before, he was sure. The message was simple, only two words and yet it failed to make sense to him.

* * *

Safely back in her apartment, Rukia watched the green bar as it moved across the screen of her laptop. Doc was huddled in one corner of the computer, watching with reverence as the files downloaded. Rukia waited in silence, admitting to herself that she felt slightly guilty for what the captain had just done.

She shook it off with ease.

The bar reached one hundred percent.

"It's done," Doc said, a little bit unnecessarily.

Rukia just nodded before moving away from her desk, wandering into the kitchen. The dishes from her dinner lay unwashed in the sink and the stereo had been turned down so low, it might as well have been off. Going against her better judgement, she pulled out her cell phone and typed a quick message. Before she could change her mind, she sent it, not bothering to wait for a reply. He wasn't going to reply. He wouldn't know how.

_Thank you._

* * *

More than a little irritated, he shut off the computer with perhaps more force than necessary. He was angry with himself, disappointed too. He didn't even want to think about what he had just done, or the two words still bouncing around his skull.

_Thank you._

He really didn't want to think about it at all.

He stood up and stepped out of his office. The hallway was dark, quiet and empty. He tucked his hands into his sleeves and proceeded to his room. He turned the corner and if not for his impeccable instincts, he would have collided head on with a distressed Renji.

Hitsugaya straightened up.

"Abarai," he said coolly.

Renji righted himself. He was unusually pale, Hitsugaya noticed. In fact, he seemed frantic. His hair, usually carefully tied back and out of the way, was escaping its band. His eyes were wide and dare he say fearful? He had never known the lieutenant to be afraid of anything before.

"Captain…Hitsugaya," the man said breathlessly. "I…was coming…to find…you…"

"Out with it, Abarai," Hitsugaya demanded.

Renji looked up at him and said the only words that made Hitsugaya understand immediately with no explanation whatsoever.

"It's Captain Ukitake."

* * *

**I hated this chapter. It was just…**_**ugh**_**. But here it is, seventeen pages of, you know, _words_. I am aware that Ichigo appears to be smarter than he is. Well, he's actually quite smart, now that I think about it. He just doesn't show it as much as he's going to in this story. **

**Rukia and Hitsugaya interact more in the next chapter—in fact, the next chapter is solely about them. Also, more on his team. I know I haven't spared much for Ukitake and the others but I will properly introduce them next chapter as well. **

**[****Teaser: I recently wrote the chapter that is the reason behind this fic being rated M…and it's well over a thousand words!****]**

**Let me know what you think.**


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